This is Jason's personal brush with synchronicity, revealed by the book "Etidorhpa" by John Uri Lloyd.
This entire post concerns my experiences with the book "Etidorhpa" and an event that happened to me years before I even knew it existed. At the time of the synchronicity that I am about to reveal to you, the reader, I had not read more than two chapters of this book. However, I have since finished the entire thing and if you're into the strange, the odd, the possibly true...I recommend it.
THEN:
Sometime between me being sixteen years old (2001) and graduating high school in 2003, I had started a journey, unknowingly, that would culminate two years later. This journey may be only a starting point, however, as some 15 years later, a glaring synchronicity has been thrust upon my life. I remember, vividly, a lucid dream I had in which my girlfriend (at the time) and I were flying around Southern Illinois. I had been there several times as a younger child and always found beauty and a sense of adventure there. Garden of the Gods, The Iron Furnace, Cave-in-Rock...these are some of my favorite places. At any rate, we were flying around and crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky. I should point out that I had no idea what I was seeing was Kentucky. It wasn’t something I thought about until two years later. We flew past this large house and I can still remember it to this day. A creamy white color, nearly yellow in the dream, with blue shutters. It was surrounded by a fence and an odd gate. The gate was odd for the area, not necessarily odd in itself. Nothing happened at this house. I just remember it. It was nice and obviously worth a lot of money.
We landed near the Southern bank of the Ohio River and I remember walking the bank towards some small trees and brush. At my feet I noticed around a dozen gar fish heads, strewn about the sandy soil. They were in various states of decay. As I turned my head over my left shoulder, there was a bright light and I woke up. I didn’t think much about any of this. Just a fun little experience.
Nearly two years later (I think, my memory isn’t quite as good as it used to be), my friends Paul, Ryne, and I set out for a day trip to Southern Illinois. I had been there, as I previously mentioned, several times and neither of them had been. I was the de facto guide for the day. We had been to all of “my spots” and were looking at a couple more hours of exploration before heading home. I remembered Smithland Lock and Dam. There was a visitor center there the last time I had been. I remember watching barges coming and going and it seemed like something worth seeing while we were down there. So we consulted the atlas and headed in that direction. However, when we arrived we found the road to the visitors center was closed. And from where we were stopped, we could barely see the river. I thought, well, maybe from the Kentucky side we can see the dam, at least. Once again, we consorted with the all knowing atlas and set off to Cave-In-Rock, for the second time that day, to catch the ferry across the Ohio to Kentucky. From there we skirted around the Ohio River until we came to Smithland.
I had never been there before and found it to be a small, quiet town. We turned toward the river after passing a few side streets. I was in shock. At the end of the road, on the West, sat the very house I had flown around just two years ago. It looked exactly how I dreamed it. I was rushed with the memory of this dream and when we parked the car along the side of the road, I was anxious, nervous, and excited to approach the bank. We all headed toward the river, watching a barge moving through just ahead of us. My friend, Paul, was slightly ahead of us and I remember him saying, “hey guys!” So we caught up to him and there were dozens of dead gar fish along the brush and small trees. I was so caught up in the moment that I barely remember anything about the trip after this stop.
The validation that I had, that I had been somewhere real from within a dream, overwhelmed me. Now, no one would believe that I ever dreamed any of this or that I had some sort of premonition. And that was fine. I knew. Time moved on and I moved on. I never dwelled on the events of that day much after a few weeks, but I never forgot. However, on June 19th, 2020 I was slapped in the face by synchronicity. I looked through the map, and the guide for the numbered locations. Number 2: Smithland, Kentucky. A town that very few people know exists, from a book that few people in our time have read, let alone heard about. A town that I had an incredible experience in. Now this book and author dealt with the Freemasons, considerably. Get this. I pulled up Smithland on Google Maps. I was able to find the house, relatively easy, after all these years. I had never looked there on Google Maps. I hadn’t thought to do so, until now. Two buildings away from the house sits an old, two story, white building. The Masonic Hall-Federal Commissary Building Historic Site.
NOW:
My wife and I decided to pack up our boys and head down to Southern Illinois just to get out of the house in a relatively secluded area and do something physical, but also peaceful. Garden of the Gods in the Shawnee Forest is exactly that. I've been there so many times in my life that I know the way without looking up directions (despite it being over 2 hours away.) It was a nice time and we all enjoyed it. Afterwords, we stopped and had a snack and bought the obligatory souveniers at the Garden of the Gods Outpost (which was new since my last visit and quite nice.)
We left the outpost and headed further South to Cave-In-Rock, Illinois. This town is home to the Illinois State Park by the same name. The park itself is along the Ohio River and over a really old cave. The cave is about 55 feet wide and maybe 80 feet deep or so (this is pure conjecture, I'm not sure how deep it is.) The massive opening deepens into a mostly round chamber. The chamber has a small "side room" off of it which is maybe 4 feet deep by 20 feet wide. The "side room" is sort of like two little rooms on either side of the opening. Atop the cave is a hole that is covered with a wire fence from above. You can look down into the cave from above before making your way down and into the cave itself.
When we arrived (this was the first visit for my boys) the kids were excited to run up and look down into the cave from above. As we approached, it sounded like there was faint music coming from within the cave. We sat and tried to figure it out, but couldn't think of what we were hearing. There weren't many cars parked along the road and we couldn't see anyone actually in the cave.
After a few minutes, we made our way down the stone stairway and down to the river bank. We walked over to the cave entrance and waited a few minutes for a couple of other families to head out (the foot entrance isn't very wide.) We headed inward and could hear the sound again. From one of the higher stone paths in the cave a woman said someone was "doing some sort of ritual back there."
Amazing. I was returning to Smithland in hopes of tripping, stumbling my way back into some synchronistic radar blip. But here we are, still 45 minutes and a ferry ride away, and someone is "doing some sort of ritual back there." We kept walking in and made it to the big chamber, directly under the opening from above, shining sun down into an otherwise dark, damp, cool cave. Sure enough, the music was actually two people singing some sort of chant (?). I'm unfamiliar with what it was EXACTLY they were doing, but they were burning herbs and incense and fanning it all over a third person while doing this beautiful, melodic chanting. I couldn't make out a single word they were saying, if they even were words. I did not record this or take pictures or even hang around much as I didn't want to 1.) invade their privacy or 2.) interrupt whatever it was they were doing. I wasn't threatened or fearful in any way. They were in street clothes and had backpacks laying at their feet. I have to admit I was disappointed that they weren't in robes and waving torches around. Whatever ritual they were doing, it was nice. I enjoyed what I saw/heard, but again, I didn't want to be a bother, so I let my kids go out to the main chamber and look around a bit before heading them back out to explore the rest of the cave more.
We left town, via ferry, into Kentucky. Our drive to Smithland was nice. We had beautiful weather all day, honestly. One thing about Smithland that I had forgotten from all of those years ago is how isolated and distanced it is from the East. The drive felt longer than it was, I'm sure, but there just isn't much to see. Finally, we approached the bridge over the Cumberland River and the liminality of this sleepy little town really became apparent.
Smithland sits on the South shore of the Ohio River and where the Ohio branches South to become the Cumberland River. In the days of water transportation, this place had to be a busselling little village. I have been staring at this town on Google Maps for so long in the past few weeks that I knew exactly where to turn to make it to where I wanted to go. It wasn't long before we arrived at the Masonic Hall that I realized existed. Outside the building, on the street corner was a big plaque with information about it. I took pictures of this and have transcribed the information here:
While its location was strategically important, Smithland was a small community at the outbreak of the War. The Federal military presence quickly demanded the construction of buildings to house many departments that supported the operations of a large force – and Smithland was an essential part of the support for Union operations in the lower South. This building was constructed in May 1863 for use as a warehouse by Federal forces in Smithland, specifically for the Commissary Department. The Commissary Department was responsible for feeding the Army.
An anonymous commissary officer in 1863 described the soldiers' rations:
"...the regulations provide that each man shall be entitled to a certain fixed amount daily, which amount is designated "a ration." Rations consist of beef, salt and fresh, pork, bacon, flour, pilot or hard bread, cornmeal, coffee, sugar, beans, peas, rice, hominy, molasses, vinegar, soap, candles, and desiccated vegetables. The latter are usually potatoes, cut, scalded, dried, and put up in barrels. When thus prepared they have very much the appearance of coarse cornmeal, and are used as a preventive of scurvy. Each day's ration-subsistence for one man in bulk averages 3 pounds in weight. All of these rations, forming the entire subsistence of the army, are under the charge of the Chief Commissary, by whom the corps commissaries are supplied; and these in turn supply the division commissaries, and regimental from brigade officers. The men draw their rations by companies and they are then divided among the messes. The cost of each ration including transportation is about 20 cents."
Montgomery C. Meigs (above) was Quartermaster General of the United States Army with the rank of brigadier general. He served as head of the department, providing the armies in the field with all kinds of supplies, except those with which they ate or fought. His responsibilities also included transportation by railroad, wagon, and ship of both the army and its supplies, including army clothing, camp and garrison equipage, cavalry and artillery horses, fuel, forage, straw, material for bedding, and stationery. His department also oversaw the operations of the Military Telegraph Corps.
All food for the Army was purchased by contract and administering such a large scale operation took a large number of men and a great deal of space for storage, processing, and shipping forward to troops in the field.
The building was also used as a hospital during the War. After the war it was used as a Masonic Hall. The First Baptist Church also met here from 1887-1913.
This building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Unlike the Smithland commissary, many Civil War Commissaries were little more than a simple tent similar to the commissary in the above photograph.
We left the Masonic Hall and moved on to our last destination for the day (besides stopping in Paducah for some chow.) We pulled up to the Smithland Cemetery and I wondered how long it would take me to find the grave of Joseph Watts. Mr. Watts, according to "Etidorhpa" lodged "I Am the Man" and his first guide for the night upon their arrival to Smithland. Well, I parked the car atop a small hill and got out, prepared only with my memory of the photo of said grave that I had found online. I look over to the right and thought, well, that one is similar anyway. It was similar, alright. I had parked 15 feet from the exact grave I had meant to find. Life is wonderful some days.
THEN:
Sometime between me being sixteen years old (2001) and graduating high school in 2003, I had started a journey, unknowingly, that would culminate two years later. This journey may be only a starting point, however, as some 15 years later, a glaring synchronicity has been thrust upon my life. I remember, vividly, a lucid dream I had in which my girlfriend (at the time) and I were flying around Southern Illinois. I had been there several times as a younger child and always found beauty and a sense of adventure there. Garden of the Gods, The Iron Furnace, Cave-in-Rock...these are some of my favorite places. At any rate, we were flying around and crossed the Ohio River into Kentucky. I should point out that I had no idea what I was seeing was Kentucky. It wasn’t something I thought about until two years later. We flew past this large house and I can still remember it to this day. A creamy white color, nearly yellow in the dream, with blue shutters. It was surrounded by a fence and an odd gate. The gate was odd for the area, not necessarily odd in itself. Nothing happened at this house. I just remember it. It was nice and obviously worth a lot of money.
We landed near the Southern bank of the Ohio River and I remember walking the bank towards some small trees and brush. At my feet I noticed around a dozen gar fish heads, strewn about the sandy soil. They were in various states of decay. As I turned my head over my left shoulder, there was a bright light and I woke up. I didn’t think much about any of this. Just a fun little experience.
Nearly two years later (I think, my memory isn’t quite as good as it used to be), my friends Paul, Ryne, and I set out for a day trip to Southern Illinois. I had been there, as I previously mentioned, several times and neither of them had been. I was the de facto guide for the day. We had been to all of “my spots” and were looking at a couple more hours of exploration before heading home. I remembered Smithland Lock and Dam. There was a visitor center there the last time I had been. I remember watching barges coming and going and it seemed like something worth seeing while we were down there. So we consulted the atlas and headed in that direction. However, when we arrived we found the road to the visitors center was closed. And from where we were stopped, we could barely see the river. I thought, well, maybe from the Kentucky side we can see the dam, at least. Once again, we consorted with the all knowing atlas and set off to Cave-In-Rock, for the second time that day, to catch the ferry across the Ohio to Kentucky. From there we skirted around the Ohio River until we came to Smithland.
I had never been there before and found it to be a small, quiet town. We turned toward the river after passing a few side streets. I was in shock. At the end of the road, on the West, sat the very house I had flown around just two years ago. It looked exactly how I dreamed it. I was rushed with the memory of this dream and when we parked the car along the side of the road, I was anxious, nervous, and excited to approach the bank. We all headed toward the river, watching a barge moving through just ahead of us. My friend, Paul, was slightly ahead of us and I remember him saying, “hey guys!” So we caught up to him and there were dozens of dead gar fish along the brush and small trees. I was so caught up in the moment that I barely remember anything about the trip after this stop.
The validation that I had, that I had been somewhere real from within a dream, overwhelmed me. Now, no one would believe that I ever dreamed any of this or that I had some sort of premonition. And that was fine. I knew. Time moved on and I moved on. I never dwelled on the events of that day much after a few weeks, but I never forgot. However, on June 19th, 2020 I was slapped in the face by synchronicity. I looked through the map, and the guide for the numbered locations. Number 2: Smithland, Kentucky. A town that very few people know exists, from a book that few people in our time have read, let alone heard about. A town that I had an incredible experience in. Now this book and author dealt with the Freemasons, considerably. Get this. I pulled up Smithland on Google Maps. I was able to find the house, relatively easy, after all these years. I had never looked there on Google Maps. I hadn’t thought to do so, until now. Two buildings away from the house sits an old, two story, white building. The Masonic Hall-Federal Commissary Building Historic Site.
NOW:
My wife and I decided to pack up our boys and head down to Southern Illinois just to get out of the house in a relatively secluded area and do something physical, but also peaceful. Garden of the Gods in the Shawnee Forest is exactly that. I've been there so many times in my life that I know the way without looking up directions (despite it being over 2 hours away.) It was a nice time and we all enjoyed it. Afterwords, we stopped and had a snack and bought the obligatory souveniers at the Garden of the Gods Outpost (which was new since my last visit and quite nice.)
We left the outpost and headed further South to Cave-In-Rock, Illinois. This town is home to the Illinois State Park by the same name. The park itself is along the Ohio River and over a really old cave. The cave is about 55 feet wide and maybe 80 feet deep or so (this is pure conjecture, I'm not sure how deep it is.) The massive opening deepens into a mostly round chamber. The chamber has a small "side room" off of it which is maybe 4 feet deep by 20 feet wide. The "side room" is sort of like two little rooms on either side of the opening. Atop the cave is a hole that is covered with a wire fence from above. You can look down into the cave from above before making your way down and into the cave itself.
When we arrived (this was the first visit for my boys) the kids were excited to run up and look down into the cave from above. As we approached, it sounded like there was faint music coming from within the cave. We sat and tried to figure it out, but couldn't think of what we were hearing. There weren't many cars parked along the road and we couldn't see anyone actually in the cave.
After a few minutes, we made our way down the stone stairway and down to the river bank. We walked over to the cave entrance and waited a few minutes for a couple of other families to head out (the foot entrance isn't very wide.) We headed inward and could hear the sound again. From one of the higher stone paths in the cave a woman said someone was "doing some sort of ritual back there."
Amazing. I was returning to Smithland in hopes of tripping, stumbling my way back into some synchronistic radar blip. But here we are, still 45 minutes and a ferry ride away, and someone is "doing some sort of ritual back there." We kept walking in and made it to the big chamber, directly under the opening from above, shining sun down into an otherwise dark, damp, cool cave. Sure enough, the music was actually two people singing some sort of chant (?). I'm unfamiliar with what it was EXACTLY they were doing, but they were burning herbs and incense and fanning it all over a third person while doing this beautiful, melodic chanting. I couldn't make out a single word they were saying, if they even were words. I did not record this or take pictures or even hang around much as I didn't want to 1.) invade their privacy or 2.) interrupt whatever it was they were doing. I wasn't threatened or fearful in any way. They were in street clothes and had backpacks laying at their feet. I have to admit I was disappointed that they weren't in robes and waving torches around. Whatever ritual they were doing, it was nice. I enjoyed what I saw/heard, but again, I didn't want to be a bother, so I let my kids go out to the main chamber and look around a bit before heading them back out to explore the rest of the cave more.
We left town, via ferry, into Kentucky. Our drive to Smithland was nice. We had beautiful weather all day, honestly. One thing about Smithland that I had forgotten from all of those years ago is how isolated and distanced it is from the East. The drive felt longer than it was, I'm sure, but there just isn't much to see. Finally, we approached the bridge over the Cumberland River and the liminality of this sleepy little town really became apparent.
Smithland sits on the South shore of the Ohio River and where the Ohio branches South to become the Cumberland River. In the days of water transportation, this place had to be a busselling little village. I have been staring at this town on Google Maps for so long in the past few weeks that I knew exactly where to turn to make it to where I wanted to go. It wasn't long before we arrived at the Masonic Hall that I realized existed. Outside the building, on the street corner was a big plaque with information about it. I took pictures of this and have transcribed the information here:
While its location was strategically important, Smithland was a small community at the outbreak of the War. The Federal military presence quickly demanded the construction of buildings to house many departments that supported the operations of a large force – and Smithland was an essential part of the support for Union operations in the lower South. This building was constructed in May 1863 for use as a warehouse by Federal forces in Smithland, specifically for the Commissary Department. The Commissary Department was responsible for feeding the Army.
An anonymous commissary officer in 1863 described the soldiers' rations:
"...the regulations provide that each man shall be entitled to a certain fixed amount daily, which amount is designated "a ration." Rations consist of beef, salt and fresh, pork, bacon, flour, pilot or hard bread, cornmeal, coffee, sugar, beans, peas, rice, hominy, molasses, vinegar, soap, candles, and desiccated vegetables. The latter are usually potatoes, cut, scalded, dried, and put up in barrels. When thus prepared they have very much the appearance of coarse cornmeal, and are used as a preventive of scurvy. Each day's ration-subsistence for one man in bulk averages 3 pounds in weight. All of these rations, forming the entire subsistence of the army, are under the charge of the Chief Commissary, by whom the corps commissaries are supplied; and these in turn supply the division commissaries, and regimental from brigade officers. The men draw their rations by companies and they are then divided among the messes. The cost of each ration including transportation is about 20 cents."
Montgomery C. Meigs (above) was Quartermaster General of the United States Army with the rank of brigadier general. He served as head of the department, providing the armies in the field with all kinds of supplies, except those with which they ate or fought. His responsibilities also included transportation by railroad, wagon, and ship of both the army and its supplies, including army clothing, camp and garrison equipage, cavalry and artillery horses, fuel, forage, straw, material for bedding, and stationery. His department also oversaw the operations of the Military Telegraph Corps.
All food for the Army was purchased by contract and administering such a large scale operation took a large number of men and a great deal of space for storage, processing, and shipping forward to troops in the field.
The building was also used as a hospital during the War. After the war it was used as a Masonic Hall. The First Baptist Church also met here from 1887-1913.
This building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Unlike the Smithland commissary, many Civil War Commissaries were little more than a simple tent similar to the commissary in the above photograph.
We left the Masonic Hall and moved on to our last destination for the day (besides stopping in Paducah for some chow.) We pulled up to the Smithland Cemetery and I wondered how long it would take me to find the grave of Joseph Watts. Mr. Watts, according to "Etidorhpa" lodged "I Am the Man" and his first guide for the night upon their arrival to Smithland. Well, I parked the car atop a small hill and got out, prepared only with my memory of the photo of said grave that I had found online. I look over to the right and thought, well, that one is similar anyway. It was similar, alright. I had parked 15 feet from the exact grave I had meant to find. Life is wonderful some days.
